Domesticated
by oh-the-linsanity
Summary: "So he grabbed her hand and ran-and they never stopped"


AN: A collection of little stories about Rose and the meta-crisis Doctor adapting to living as humans. There's four, and none of them are really related or in any particular order. enjoy:)

domesticated

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The Doctor had been right—his human clone looked just like him, sounded just like him, and had all the same memories as him. But Rose picked up on the subtle differences. Sharper-tongued, like he was when she first met him a few years back. Sassier, (Well, he was always sassy. But sassy comes in different varieties, she's starting to learn.) and she figures it's his human side from Donna. He was her Doctor, but not, and quite frankly she didn't even know where to begin to handle it.

So she started with the store.

They walked down the aisles of the supermarket, Rose pushing the cart, the Doctor holding a crumpled list in his hand. "It says we need more bananas."

She made feeble attempts of snatching the list from his hand. "It does not! I just bought bananas!" Rose exclaimed with a laugh as she reached for a can of soup at the top of the shelf. It was a smidge out of her reach and the Doctor reached over her, his arm brushing against her, and grabbed the can before simply tossing it in the car. "But we need more for the banana cream pie we're going to make," he said.

"Banana cream pie?" Rose asked, giggles hiccupping through. "We don't _need_ a banana cream pie."

"Welll," he drawled, sparking something in Rose's heart. "Every once in a while a luxury is a necessity, don't you think? Besides, when was the last time either of us had the chance to even _bake _a pie? There was always something pesky like—"

"—like livin' plastics and Dalek invasions?" she asked, her tongue snaking out between her crooked white teeth in that smile he always adored. Smiling, teasing, despite some of the more scary memories associated with such events.

He grinned back. "Precisely, Rose Tyler. For once, I'd like to buy a bunch of bananas," he said, gently lifting her hands away from the cart. "And make a banana cream pie! Sounds delicious! So," he stepped on the cart, balancing hastily, letting the cart roll back and forth. He cocked his head to the basket. "Wanna lift to the produce section?"

Rose snorted, trying to look mature as a pair of middle-aged women passed her, eying her curiously. "What do I look like to you, a child?"

"If you're afraid of looking like a fool, I can assure you that's not possible." He said smoothly, so smooth and sincere Rose couldn't help but crack a smile because that was just who he was—honest and heartfelt, in the most amazing way possible.

She pushed her hair behind her ear before she trotted over to him, squeezing his shoulder before beginning to climb in the cart. "You just can't do simple things normally, can you?" But they both knew she never wanted him to change.

He howled with laughter before pushing down the aisle, flying pass the cans of Campbell's soup like they were stars dotting the sky. He shook and rattled around corners, faking TARDIS noises and braking roughly next to a pyramid of watermelons, which all came tumbling down, spilling next to the apples and cantaloupes. Rose clamped a hand over her mouth, stifling barking laughter and screams of shock. While the Doctor simply stared.

"At least we didn't bruise the bananas." He finally decided, kicking at a watermelon.

"_You're bananas."_

He lifted her out of the cart and carried her on his back anyway.

.

"Ooh! Ooh! This one has a pool!"

Rose peaked over his shoulder at the black and white ads in the paper. "It's nice, I s'pose."

"Nice!? It has a pool!"

"What do we need a pool for anyway?" she asked, setting a cup of tea in front of him.

The Doctor pouted. "I miss the pool," he whined, taking a sip of his tea. He pulled a face when the scorching hot liquid burned his tongue, making him lap around like a dog.

"Hot," Rose warned, not even looking up from her laptop. The Doctor noticed how she bowed her head a bit, trying to hide her smile. "We don't need anything real fancy—just somethin' small and cozy, don't you reckon?"

The doctor bounced his head back and forth, "Well, it's got to be big enough—at least 4 bedrooms, right?"

"4 bedrooms?" she parroted back slowly, suspicion laced in each elongated syllable.

He nodded enthusiastically. "The kids should each have their own room, if possible. Everyone needs a little space for themselves," he paused, throwing her a lopsided grin. "Don't you reckon?" he said, imitating her voice.

Rose's mouth opened and closed half a dozen times before she managed to squeak out, "you want three of 'em?"

His eyes roamed her, trying to pick up on something he thought he missed—he doesn't do that too often. "We can have more, of course!" He waggled his finger before pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. "But that would require more space, more bedrooms!"

Rose felt her cheeks grow warm before she ducked her head and began skimming through her computer. Quiet minutes passed before she pushed the laptop his way, turning the screen his way.

"Everyone uses the internet these days, Doctor," she pointed to the middle of the screen. "That one."

The Doctor adjusted his glasses and skimmed the description, "private pool, spacious kitchen, plenty of rooms…lovely neighborhood"

"_3 bedrooms_, to be precise," Rose made sure to mention, the two sharing a soft smile. "But look at the outside, they've painted—"

"It's TARDIS blue!" The Doctor grinned, child-like smile and bright eyes. "Well, isn't that brilliant!" He leaned over the table and kissed her forehead before looking back at the house, pausing. "It's got an unfinished basement as well," he said aloud.

"For the library I know you want. Or…"

"Or…" he urged on, his impossible grin impossibly wider.

"Just in case we need that fourth bedroom," she mumbled.

He leaned over and kissed her once more, this time firmly on the mouth.

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Rose woke early one morning and noticed for once, the Doctor wasn't up before her.

She didn't think much of it. She figured his human side would have caught up with him eventually, and he'd be sleeping a bit longer. She wiggled out of bed, careful not to wake him and went ahead to getting ready for the day. After a quick shower, she made haste in dressing and went to the kitchen to make breakfast

A skillet of scrambled eggs, some toast, and two cups of hot tea later, Rose looked up at the clock and realized she needed to get along to finish some Saturday morning errands. She peeked her head through the bedroom and saw he hadn't moved an inch. She giggled to herself before she left as quietly as possible.

When she came back him, a tick past noon, she put down the groceries, rubbing her aching shoulder. She started putting them away when she realized nothing had been touched in the kitchen. "Doctor?" She said loudly, listening for a response. "Doctor?" Still nothing. Hands on her hips, she marched to the bedroom, a wry grin on her face. "Doctor, you never sleep this long what—"

"Roooose," he moaned, followed by some weak coughing.

Rose dashed across the bedroom, her hands hovering over him. "Doctor, what's wrong?" She turned him over and studied his face, brow slick with sweat. She pressed the back of her head and frowned.

"Rose," he whispered hoarsely. "Rose, something's happened to me."

Rose sighed, raking her fingers gently through her hair. "Yeah, I know. It's called the flu."

"The flu! I don't get sick!"

She snorted, amused. "Humans get the flu, and you're a human now….sorta." She added at the end.

"It feels like dying," he grimaced, moving his aching limbs. "Only not as exciting; pathetic degrading of the already weak human body."

"Gee thanks," Rose teased, cracking a smile. "It'll pass, don't you worry. I just have to take care of you, that's all. We'll get that one heart of yours and everythin' else in tip top shape."

He frowned. "But _I_ like taking care of _you_."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Honestly," she mumbled, but didn't expand on it. He was sick after all, so she figured she could cut him some slack. "Now, you just stay here, nice and warm, and I'll make you a cup of tea."

"No, you really don't have to—"

"_Tea_." She demanded, marching out of the room towards the kitchen once more.

"Rose?"

She leaned against the doorframe. "Yes, Doctor?"

"...can you put honey in my tea?" he asked weakly.

"Of course," she said.

_"_Thanks_, Honey."_

Despite the cheesiness of it all, he heard her gentle, melodious laugh echo through the hall.

.

"Want to go to Portugal?" The doctor asked, weaving his fingers with hers as they strolled down the afternoon streets of London.

Rose swung their arms back and forth, sparking a skip in her step. "When?"

"Tomorrow?"

She stopped suddenly, jerking him back. "Tomorrow?" she laughed wildly, drawing attention from others on the sidewalks. "What's the occasion?"

His grin went crooked, slowly bearing all his teeth. "Since when is there an occasion? When has there ever been a reason? Well, other than to see the world, of course."

Rose's eyes roamed his face, the stubble on his chin, his new ever-so-slightly crooked nose since he broke it last month, the wonder in his eyes and the giddiness practically embedded in every inch of his face. "Portugal, huh?"

"Or Spain. Russia. Brazil. Wherever you want, your pick."

"My pick?"

"Oh, it's always been your pick, Rose Tyler." He winked. "Always."

Rose squeezed his hand and started walking again, swinging their arms back and forth once more. "And how will we get there, hmm? Plane? Boat? Car? We don't have the TARDIS anymore."

He pulled them out of the walkway to the edge of the pavement, just before the bustling streets of downtown London. "Rose Tyler, it does not matter how we get there or how long it takes. As long as you're by my side, I'll enjoy every layover, every underground tunnel, every wave I see rolling by, and I'll enjoy every little thing we see along the way."

He watched her smile, entrancing and beautiful, framed by the most perfect set of soft pink lips he'd ever seen. "We've always been running," he said. "So I was thinking why stop."

A laugh erupted from her chest and she yanked him into the streets, weaving through honking buses and swerving cars. "If we hurry, I bet we can catch the train!" she yelled, just as they finished crossing the street.

"To where?" he asked.

She beamed, throwing her head back. "Anywhere!"

So he grabbed her hand and ran and never stopped.


End file.
